Love Sees More 2: The Werewolf Colony
by SpoonyLupin
Summary: By the age of eleven, Remus has grown accustomed to his monthly transformations, but when he finds out about werewolf colonies, he realizes that he may be much luckier than he had at first realized.


**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

_Author's note: Remus was not bitten by Greyback in my stories._

**Love Sees More 2: The Werewolf Colony**

Eleven year old Remus sat on his bed, his heart pounding as he read his Hogwarts letter over and over again. He was actually going to school! He almost couldn't believe, and he had to keep checking to make sure the letter was real; to make sure his schoolbooks already packed in his trunk were real; to make sure his very first wand was real.

He still couldn't quite comprehend it. Remus read everything on lycanthropy he could get his hands on, and he knew for a fact that werewolves weren't supposed to go to school, but according to Albus Dumbledore, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

There was something else that was puzzling him even more, however. Remus looked at the book on his bedside table, which was the source of his questions. The book sat next to a large stuffed, black dog that his father had bought for him years ago. His dad had bought it during a particularly rough period for Remus, just after his mother had died. Remus kept having recurring nightmares, and his father said the black stuffed dog would fight off the nightmares. Remus wasn't so sure he believed that at first, but whenever he slept with the stuffed dog, his nightmares had indeed stopped.

Shaking his head to stop the flow of his memories, he directed his attention back toward the book, finally deciding that he was going to ask his father about his worries that evening.

* * *

"Dad?" Remus asked quietly, still feeling uncomfortable about bringing it up.

"Hm?" his father, Alex, hummed in response, his eyes on that evening's edition of the Daily Prophet.

"I'm reading that book you gave me," Remus said, "_Hairy Snout, Human Heart_."

When Remus didn't offer anything more, Alex looked up at him. "Oh? Are you enjoying it?"

"Yeah, but…" Remus stopped, biting his lower lip and frowning. He used his fork to prod gently at his peas.

"Remus, what?" his dad asked, pushing his paper aside and directing all of his attention toward Remus. "You know you can tell me, whatever it is."

Remus hesitated, took a slow, deep breath, and finally said, "Well, in the book, he talks about…_werewolf colonies_." He said the last two words so quietly his dad barely heard them.

His father nodded as if he had been expecting that. "I know, I read the book too."

"Well…" Remus felt horrible for asking, but he wanted to know. "Why didn't you ever send me to one?" His father frowned slightly, and Remus quickly said, "I wouldn't _want _to go to one, they sound bad, but…I'm just curious. It sounded like a lot of parents send their children to one of those places after they're bitten." He trailed off and looked down at his lap, not quite sure he should have brought it up at all.

"They do," Alex agreed. "In fact, the first healer we got to care for you after your bite suggested that we find one of those places for you."

Remus looked up from his lap, a horrified expression on his face.

Alex smiled slightly. "We never even considered it, Remus, not for a moment. Why do you think that man isn't your healer any longer?"

"Why not?" Remus asked, genuinely curious. "Why didn't you consider it, I mean?"

"What did your mother and I always tell you?"

Remus sighed softly. His father asked him that question at least once a week. "That love sees more than just a werewolf."

"That's right," Alex said approvingly.

"But…" Remus began, but then he trailed off, unable to find words for what he was thinking.

Alex set his fork down on his plate, watching his son intently. "What's troubling you, Remus?"

"In the book," Remus explained, quietly and quickly, "it said that there are a lot of people in werewolf colonies."

"Yes, there are," Alex responded, sounding slightly puzzled by Remus's words. He didn't ask Remus for anything more, however, but simply watched him, waiting for Remus to speak.

This was very common in their routine. Remus wouldn't explain things completely until he was absolutely ready, and Alex had grown accustomed to waiting; urging Remus to speak only served to make him quieter.

After nearly a moment of silence, Remus asked, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are there so many people in those places?" Remus said, looking relieved at finally putting his thoughts into words. "Don't…don't their parents love them?"

Alex sighed, suddenly focusing his attention on his water glass. He picked the glass up and swirled it around in small circles, watching the clear liquid curl around the sides of the glass, just as Remus's question was curling around in his mind. Alex had asked himself that question so many times that he had lost track. Even after Remus had been bitten, that didn't change the fact that he was his son, despite what _some _people had told Alex. He still loved Remus just as much as he had before, especially after he had lost Caitlin; Remus was all he had left.

After six years of asking himself that same question, he still didn't have an answer. Alex couldn't, for the life of him, comprehend how any parent could send their child to a werewolf colony. They were scared, he supposed, but so would a child who had just been bitten, and they'd be even more frightened if they found themselves in such a place. How could anyone possibly do that to their child?

Alex shook his head, partially to stop the flow of his thoughts, but also to answer Remus's question. "I don't know," Alex sighed.

They fell into silence, the only sound in the small kitchen coming from the clinking of their utensils against their plates.

* * *

Two days later, Remus lay in the bed in the guest bedroom, recovering from the full moon the night before. He always slept in the guest bedroom after transformations because it was on the ground floor; his bedroom was upstairs and he had a hard time climbing the stairs when he was healing. Anthony, his healer, was currently working on bandaging his left hand.

"Sir?" Remus asked sleepily, his eyes following Anthony's movements.

"I told you, Remus," Anthony said, smiling slightly. "There's no need to call me sir – or even Mr. Isaacs, for that matter. Anthony is fine."

"Sorry," Remus apologized, "but I have a hard time calling you by your first name."

"Well, try at least," Anthony said, "okay? I don't much care for formalities."

Remus shrugged. "Okay." He paused, watching as Anthony finished with his hand and went into his bag for something. Remus still thought it was strange to call an adult by their first name, but he would try.

"Did you want to ask me something?" Anthony asked, pulling another bandage from his bag and setting to work on Remus's other arm.

Remus often asked Anthony questions while he was tending to him after a full moon. Anthony still remembered the very first times he had taken care of Remus. The boy had been five years old then, and at first, he had seemed very distrustful of Anthony. It had taken nearly a year before the boy had started opening up to him, often asking him questions about the other werewolves Anthony had as patients.

Sometimes they talked about other things. Remus liked to tell Anthony about the stories his father was reading to him, or about the various games Remus came up with. Remus's favorite topic of conversation lately, however, was about how he was going to get to go to Hogwarts in the fall. Anthony had gone there, and Remus asked him all sorts of questions about the classes, and the teachers, and the school itself.

Anthony assumed it was Remus's way of ignoring the pain he was in. Remus loved to learn new things, and in all years Anthony had been treating him, he had never once heard Remus complain. But if he had a Galleon for every question Remus asked him, Anthony would be a rich man. Not that Anthony minded; he always enjoyed his conversations with Remus.

"My dad gave me this book to read," Remus finally spoke up, gesturing to the book on his bedside table and pulling Anthony from his thoughts. "_Hairy Snout, Human Heart_."

"Ah," Anthony mused, "that's a good book."

"Yes, sir," Remus said before he could stop himself.

Anthony gave him a stern look, but it was quickly replaced by a smile.

"Sorry," Remus giggled. "But…erm…it talked about werewolf colonies."

"Oh?" Anthony finished fixing Remus's bandages and leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on the edge of Remus's bed, waiting for the boy to speak again.

"They sound bad."

"They are."

"Have you even been to one?" Remus asked curiously.

Anthony nodded solemnly. "I've treated some werewolves in colonies, yes."

"Children?"

"Some."

"My age?"

"Yes," Anthony responded, nodding. "Not many of them are as young as you were when you were bitten, but there are several who are around your age now."

Remus sighed, looking at the window, and then he asked the same question that he had asked his father just two days earlier. "Don't their parents love them?"

Anthony wasn't quite sure how to answer that, so he volunteered something that he did know. "Some of them don't have any parents."

Looking back at Anthony, Remus looked worried. "Oh," he mumbled.

"But you don't have to worry," Anthony reassured him, "because you have a father who loves you very much."

Remus forced a smile he didn't really feel.

"You should get some rest," Anthony said, pushing Remus's hair back from his forehead.

Remus nodded, curling up under the covers. Before he left, Anthony picked up the stuffed black dog from Remus's bedside table, and tucked it under the covers next to the sleeping boy.

Anthony went out into the kitchen where Alex was preparing tea. It had become customary for the men to share a cup of tea if Anthony didn't have other patients to tend to.

"He asked me about werewolf colonies today," Anthony said, taking his teacup from Alex.

Alex sighed and nodded, taking a sip from his own steaming cup. When he set it down on the counter, he said, "He asked me about them a few days ago."

"He's very curious about them," Anthony observed.

Pausing for a moment, Alex went on, "I think a lot of people would even disapprove of me letting my eleven year old son read that book in the first place."

"Those same people would probably disapprove of you raising a werewolf at all," Anthony said quietly.

"I know," Alex said, nodding. "But…I think it's good for Remus to read things written by other werewolves, to understand how things are for werewolves – especially since he'll be going to Hogwarts soon."

"I agree…" Anthony said, and he stopped in such a way that suggest he had intended to say more, but had stopped himself at the last moment.

"What?"

Anthony sighed, suddenly turning all of his attention on the steam rising from his mug. "Some people would probably strongly disagree with what I'm about to suggest," he said, sounding slightly nervous.

"Anthony, _nothing _you tell me would surprise me," Alex chuckled.

The healer raised an eyebrow, looking momentarily amused. "Have you ever thought about taking him to a werewolf colony?"

Alex's eyes immediately narrowed. "_What_?"

"You misunderstand me," Anthony said quickly, waving his hand. "I don't mean for you to _leave _him there – I would never suggest such a thing – but what about just taking him to see one? It would assuage some of his curiosity."

A frown immediately spread over Alex's face. "Wouldn't that be…traumatic for a little boy?"

"Most little boys haven't been through nearly one hundred transformations by the time they're eleven," Anthony said. "You said so yourself, it's good for him to know how things are for other werewolves."

"It is," Alex said, "but taking him to a colony, even just to see it –!" He broke off and shook his head.

"You and I both know he'd be able to handle it," Anthony said.

"Oh, I know he would," Alex said, "but…I don't want him to get the wrong idea. What if he thinks we're going there for another reason entirely? That book mentioned something about parents touring colonies beforehand, seeing which one would be best for their child." Alex rolled he eyes, looking disgusted. "As if any one of them could ever be _best _for a child."

"Explain it to him," Anthony said calmly. "You know, it might be good for you, too."

Alex tilted his head to the side, pinning the healer with a questioning expression.

"I don't think you realize just how good you are to Remus," Anthony told him, his voice quiet and firm, "how much you offer to him."

Sighing, Alex looked down into his teacup. "I try, but…sometimes Caitlin was just so much better with him."

"See?" Anthony asked softly. "You do underestimate yourself. Do you know how few werewolves have a _home _like Remus does? Not a colony, or an orphanage, but a _home_? Do you know how few werewolves get to _go to school_? And he wouldn't have any of that without you, and you know it."

A very small smile began to form at the edge of Alex's mouth. "I just love him so much."

Anthony smiled back warmly. "I know you do. And maybe you should think about what I said. Maybe it would help Remus to better understand them."

Taking a deep and thoughtful breath, Alex nodded. "I'll think about it."

* * *

That evening, Remus slowly made his way out to the kitchen. His father always made him hot chocolate in the evenings.

"How are you feeling?" Alex asked as Remus made his way over to the kitchen table, sitting down in his usual chair and turning in the direction of the flames in the fireplace. Even in the summer, Remus liked being next to a fire after a transformation.

"I'm all right," Remus said sleepily, "just tired."

"Are you having any pain?" Alex asked, even though he already knew the answer. Remus grimaced as he had walked into the room and climbed into the chair.

Remus shrugged. "A little. It's not so bad."

"Anthony left the potion…"

"Just the hot chocolate," Remus interrupted, smiling.

Alex smiled back. Remus never ceased to amaze him. Alex knew his son was hurting, but he never so much as complained. Alex wrapped a gentle arm around Remus as he set down a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of his son.

Getting his own cup of cocoa from the counter, Alex sat down across from Remus, watching him for several moments.

"What?" Remus asked after taking a sip from his cup and setting it down. He kept his hands around the mug, comforted by the warmth.

"Anthony told me you were asking him about werewolf colonies today," Alex said.

Remus's eyes widened slightly and then he swallowed audibly. He shrugged nonchalantly, looking down into his cup. "I'm just curious."

"I hope you don't think I'm angry at you for that," Alex reassured him, "because I'm not."

"I know."

"Why are you so curious about them?" Alex asked then, leaning slightly closer to Remus.

Remus shrugged. "I dunno. It's just…I guess it's because there are children my age there and…I guess I feel sorry for them…I can't imagine being in one of those places. All I know about colonies is that they're bad, but…" He stopped and sighed, propping his chin up in his bandaged hand. "I dunno," he repeated. "I guess I'm just curious about what other werewolves are like, I suppose."

Alex sighed, glancing down at his hands, turning his mug back and forth between them. "Remus," he said, looking up at his son again, "now, I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but…Anthony says there's a colony not far from here. If you're really that curious…"

"I won't have to stay there, will I?" Remus immediately asked, his deep blue eyes widening.

"No!" Alex exclaimed. "No. Absolutely not. But if you're really that curious," he went on, "if you want to see how other werewolves live…I'd be with you the entire time and we'd only stay there for as long as you wanted."

Remus frowned, kneading his lower lip in between his teeth. He wasn't really sure how to respond.

"Just think about it, okay?" Alex said, reaching out to place a soft hand on Remus's shoulder.

Neither of them said anything else, and Remus turned his attention to the fireplace, letting the warm flames calm him as they always did.

* * *

A very long chain-link fence spread out in either direction, eventually disappearing out of view. On the other side of the fence were many, small run-down buildings. It almost looked like he had imagined the army barracks to look in the book he had read that spring called _Soldier in the Rain _by William Goldman.

There was some sort of door built into the fence with a crooked and splintering wooden sign that read: _Silver Moon Werewolf Colony_. Remus shivered at that name – of all the colors in the world they could have picked, it had to be that one that was fatal to werewolves.

One look around at the colony didn't make it feel very welcoming. There was absolutely no grass on the ground at all; it was completely covered in dirt. The windows on the small buildings were dirty and dingy, and Remus squinted, trying to see through some of them. He couldn't.

A small shack stood next to the door, just inside the fence. As they approached, a heavyset man with dark, thinning hair and a moustache came out of the small building.

"Can I help you with something?" the man barked at them, instantly sounding bothered.

Remus swallowed, looking up at his father, waiting for his response.

"Are you Mr. Grandville?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," the man said, "what can I do for you?"

"I'm Alex Lupin," he said, "we spoke earlier."

"Mhmm," Mr. Grandville hummed, his eyes passing over Alex and then Remus, where they settled, looking the boy up and down. The man had a knowing look in his eyes, and he asked, "Looking for a place for him, hm?" His eyes still did not leave Remus.

Remus's eyes widened and his hand instinctively sought out his father's, squeezing it tightly.

Alex gripped Remus's hand back just as tightly, offering him comfort. "Absolutely not. I'm very happy raising my son in our home, thank you very much. As I told you before, we're only visiting."

One of the man's eyebrows went up, and he continued to watch Remus like he knew something Remus didn't. "That's what they all say," Mr. Grandville said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a gold ring with several keys on it. He slowly sorted through them, singling one out and using it to unlock the padlock on the door in the fence.

"Is that necessary?" Alex asked, gesturing to the lock.

In the process of removing the padlock, Mr. Grandville stared at Alex as if he was crazy. "This is a _werewolf _colony."

"Yes, I can read," Alex replied tersely.

"Yes, well," the man replied, pulling the door open so they could step inside, "one can never be too careful."

Careful of what, Alex didn't ask. Maybe around the full moon locks would be necessary, but now, with over three weeks until the next full moon? It really didn't seem necessary in Alex's opinion.

Remus kept his hand inside his father's, not feeling the least bit comfortable around Mr. Grandville. The man slammed the gate door closed behind them, putting the padlock back in place and closing it, the clicking sound making Remus shiver again.

The three of them began walking down the aisle of buildings, Remus curiously looking about. It was a warm summer day, and he wondered why there weren't any children playing outside.

"How old is he?" Grandville asked, gesturing to Remus. "Ten?"

"Eleven," Alex responded flatly, clearly not feeling the least bit comfortable around the stocky man either.

Grandville nodded. "He'd be in one of the preteen bunks," he explained, leading them further along the lines of buildings.

At about the tenth or so building down from the main gate, Grandville stopped, fishing the ring of keys out of his robes again and using it to unlock another padlock. As he was doing so, Remus took a moment to inspect the place they were about to enter. The entire building looked to be less than half the size of one floor of his house.

When Grandville pulled the door open, it squeaked loudly, making Remus grimace. As they passed the threshold, Remus read the sign near the door: _Bunk #M03-05_.

Remus instantly felt curious about their numbering system and almost felt like asking exactly how many bunks there were, but he didn't. Instead, he directed his attention at the interior of the building – or room was a more fitting word. It was small and dark, the only light in the room provided by very small windows along the wall near the ceiling. There weren't any other sources of light in the room, and it was too dark to read, making Remus wonder if the werewolves there even _got _to read – or if they even _had _any books.

As Remus's eyes adjusted to the darkness, his stomach squirmed uncomfortably. He didn't know what he had been expecting exactly, but this most certainly was not it. _Bunk _was certainly an interesting term for it, because it looked nothing like any type of bunk Remus had imagined. It looked more like – Remus shuddered once more – a prison.

The room was divided up into about eight cells, walls of bars dividing each one, with a long aisle down the center. The cells were just big enough for a bed, a toilet, and a small space for the door to open into. At least the cell doors stood open, but none of the werewolves seemed to be taking advantage of that fact.

This looked to be a boys' "bunk" and they all looked to be about Remus's age. Several of them were lying on their beds, staring up at the ceiling or at the small windows high up on the walls. One of the boys was coughing rather loudly – dry, hacking coughs that made Remus's chest hurt just listening to it. A few of the boys were sitting on the floor of the their cell, some of them talking in hushed tones to their neighbor, and none of them seemed to realize they were being watched.

All of the boys wore plain grey pants and robes, which looked threadbare and faded. Now that Remus thought about it, their clothes had probably started off being black and had faded over time. There was something else about the boys that made Remus shudder once again – all of their heads were shaved.

Remus barely registered that Mr. Grandville was talking, explaining some things to them; Remus was too stunned to do anything but stare at the boys around him. They didn't seem to have any energy at all, but laid and sat there listlessly.

When they emerged back out into the summer sunshine, a stark contrast to the "bunk", Grandville checked his watch. "The first lunch shift will be starting soon," he informed them. "Might I show you the mess hall?"

Alex looked down at Remus, his hand still tightly around his son's. "Er…all right," Alex said.

Grandville led Remus and Alex to the other end of the colony from the main gate. The largest building yet had a very straight line of people walking towards it, all of them with bare heads and wearing the same robes. Out in the sunlight, Remus saw that the robes were all varying shades of grey, confirming his suspicion that they had all been black at one point.

Another man, apparently a guard, was barking orders at the group, telling them to walk straight and not to talk.

After the line of people had disappeared inside, Grandville led them into the mess hall after them. Indeed, it was a rather large room, and it sort of reminded Remus of the way his father had described the Great Hall at Hogwarts – almost. There were four very long tables, two on each side of the doorway, but any similarities to Hogwarts ended there. The ceiling was low and grey, just like pretty much everything else in the colony, not high, vaulted, and airy like the ceiling at Hogwarts.

Remus scrunched up his nose. He didn't imagine that the Great Hall smelled like this either. The mess hall smelled like a combination between burnt food and the way Remus smelled after a transformation – like blood, sweat, and fur.

At the far end of the room, there was another table set up with large metal pots lined up on it. A line of werewolves had formed, each of them holding a bowl. When they got to one of the large pots on the table, one of the ladies with large ladles would spoon out one scoop of a brown-looking mush into the bowls. Each werewolf would then take a seat at one of the tables – there seemed to be two for each gender, one for younger people and one for older people.

Yet another guard was walking up and down the aisles between the tables, correcting people when need be, and several guards stood at the back of the room, as if waiting for something to happen.

"Greyback," the patrolling guard snapped at one point, "what part of 'no talking' don't you understand?"

A man at the table for younger boys looked up at the guard, seemingly amused. Greyback, as the guard had called him, appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties, his eyebrows already greying. Greyback took a large spoonful of his stew, chewing it slowly while watching the guard.

When he swallowed, Greyback said, "Why don't you go to hell, Macnair?"

Macnair grinned maniacally. "I already have. There's where I am – hell – among all of you filthy creatures."

Greyback's eyes flashed and before anyone could react, he had jumped from his seat and launched himself over the table, upsetting several people's bowls of stew, causing the brown goo to ooze out over the wood. Greyback threw himself at Macnair, managing to land a punch before several guards came running from the far end of the room. Even Grandville had left their side, running toward the commotion. A guard each grabbed one of Greyback's arms, pulling him away from Macnair, Greyback continuing to struggle.

Then, Macnair drew back his right hand and smacked Greyback across the mouth, drawing blood. Greyback didn't seem to flinch however, but calmly flicked out his tongue, licking at the blood dripping down his lip.

"Don't you _ever _try that again!" Macnair snarled, leaning in very closely so that he was almost nose-to-nose with the werewolf.

Greyback still did not respond, but he had pulled his tongue back inside his mouth, seeming to savor the taste of his own blood. Very quickly, a smiled flashed across his face, and then he spat a mixture of blood and saliva into Macnair's face.

Macnair seemed too stunned to react at first, but as soon as he registered what had happened, he grabbed the front of Greyback's robes and lifted his foot, thrusting his knee up into Greyback's stomach. As the air rushed out of Greyback's lungs, he hunched forward, but he could only go so far when there were still two guards holding onto his arms, keeping him upright.

Just then, Remus felt his father tug at his hand, pulling him for the door. Before Remus knew it, they were outside in the hot August sun and fresh air – a far cry from the dim and stuffy mess hell. Remus's eyes teared up, not from what he had just seen, but from the suddenly bright sunlight shining down on them.

"Dad…" Remus croaked out, but he wasn't sure of what he had meant to say and he stopped.

His dad was crouching down next to him, cupping Remus's face in his hands. "Now do you see, Remus?" he asked, his voice sounding a little bit desperate. "Now do you see why you aren't in one of these places? I love you too much for that!"

Remus didn't know how to respond, and he didn't think he could find his voice anyway, so he simply thrust himself into his father's arms, clinging to him tightly.

* * *

Remus sat on the sofa in the sitting room that evening, a blanket pulled tightly around him as he watched the flames in the fireplace. Ever since they had gotten back from the colony, and despite the humid summer air, Remus had felt cold.

"Remus?" Alex asked softly from behind Remus. When Remus didn't reply, Alex walked into the room, coming around the couch. "Remus, I think we need to talk," Alex said, sitting down next to his son. "Is there anything you wanted to ask about what happened today?"

At first, Remus didn't reply, just continued to watch the fire. After nearly a minute, he said, "They got mad at him because he _talked_." He paused, swallowing, and then said, "And then they…" but he found that he couldn't finish the sentence.

"I know," Alex sighed, reaching out and pushing a strand of Remus's hair back from his face.

"Dad?" Remus asked, turning to look at his father for the first time. "I'm afraid."

"Why?" Alex asked, sounding genuinely shocked. "Remus, you have absolutely no reason to be afraid. You're safe here, nothing like that would ever happen to you!"

"But…" Remus began, his breathing speeding up. "But…" Suddenly, a sob escaped from Remus.

"Hey," Alex said, "Remus, please don't cry. You _know _I would never let you live in one of those places, don't you?"

Within seconds, Remus's deep blue eyes had filled with tears that threatened to pour down his cheeks. "But…what if something happens to you?"

"What?"

"If something happens to you," Remus said around his ragged breaths, "I won't have anyone to take care of me. I'll…I'll have to go to one of those places."

"Remus, no!" Alex exclaimed a little more harshly than he had intended. "Merlin, no! First of all, nothing's going to happen to me…"

"You don't know that," Remus said flatly, the very first tear spilling down his cheek. "Something might happen to you – just like it did to mum."

Alex sighed, biting his lip momentarily. He hesitated for a long moment and finally said, "Remus, even if something does happen to me, I promise you that you will _never _go to one of those places. Never! Do you understand me?"

"How do you know?" Remus asked, not willing to believe it just yet.

"Remus," Alex said quietly, "just because we don't have any other family doesn't mean you'd be alone. There's Dumbledore and Anthony, and I promise you that they would never allow you to go to one of those places. If something does happen to me, they'll be there to take care of you for as long as you need it."

Remus frowned, swiping at one of the tears on his cheek. "Promise?"

"Absolutely," Alex said firmly, nodding. "You can even ask them if it'll make you feel better."

Sniffling quietly, Remus continued to wipe at the tears on his cheeks and at his nose. He looked down at the blanket in his lap, running the soft and fuzzy fabric between the fingers of his other hand. "I guess I'm sort of lucky."

"Oh?"

Remus nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat and looking up at father once again. "I always thought I was unlucky when I was bitten, but…I'm really very lucky, because I have the best dad in the world."

"Oh, Remus," Alex murmured, feeling his own eyes prickle with tears, "not nearly as lucky as I am, because I have the best son in the world."

A smile quickly grew to envelope Remus's lips and he pushed himself up to his knees. "I love you, Dad," he said, before crawling into his father's lap and wrapping his arms around his father's neck tightly.

Alex hugged his son back as tightly as he could without hurting him. "I love you too, Remus."

Father and son sat on the couch in their sitting room for a very long time, neither of them speaking, but simply holding each other.

When the flames in the fireplace began to die down, Alex asked quietly, "How about some hot chocolate?"

Remus nodded against his father's chest, and then slowly got to his feet. When Alex stood up, he took Remus's hand once again, smiling down at him and leading him into the kitchen.

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"Tell me again why you love me."

Alex turned back to Remus, smiling once again. "Because," Alex said, reaching out to wipe away one last tear left on Remus's face, "loves sees more than just a werewolf."

Remus sighed contentedly, following his father into the kitchen. Suddenly, he didn't think he's ever get tired of hearing that.

_The end_


End file.
